


Light

by Sav_56



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Ghosts, M/M, Paris (City), Sad, Sad Ending, فارسی | Persian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sav_56/pseuds/Sav_56
Summary: AU where Thomas dies in a battle.But he couldn't leave Alastair alone.So he return as a ghost to look after the thief of his heart.
Relationships: Alastair Carstairs/Thomas Lightwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> There is a few words in Persian that are translated in the end of the fic.

The night was cold. He could feel it through his clothes, skin and muscles, right into his bones.

The only warm thing on this planet was the body in his hands that was dying.

“Please,” Alastair whispered. “Please, don't leave me.”

It was so cold. So cold that Alastair couldn't feel his fingers or legs. But his heart was save and warm in his chest, breaking in thousands, millions pieces. It wouldn't matter though. Because Thomas was in his arms, his belly torn apart _and by the Angel there was so much blood_ and Thomas was Alastair's life. And he was dying.

Thomas looked at him, barely able to keep his eyes open. His beautiful, hazel eyes. They were so warm. So beautiful. _Thomas was so beautiful._

“ _Adelbaram_ ,” he murmured softly. “The thief of my heart. You…” Thomas groaned from pain.

There was so much blood, Raziel, so much.

“Thomas,” Alastair desperately said his name. “Thomas, please, stay with me, by the Angel.”

Thomas looked at him again.

“Alas,” he breathed. “I… I love you.”

“No!” Alastair closed his eyes to stop the tears. “No! Don't. They will find us soon. The Silent Brothers will heal you and you will be fine and _then_ you can tell me whatever you want.”

When he looked at Thomas again he saw tears. He didn't know it was possible but his heart was broken again. One piece of it was destroyed with every Thomas' tear.

“Alastair,” he choked. “Alastair. You're so beautiful. You were amazing. You… you're the thief of my heart,” he smiled. “You have always been.”

“Please,” Alastair cried. “The light of my eyes, my _jan_ , don't. Thomas, please.”

Thomas was crying. His face was covered in blood and tears. This sign was so unbearable that Alastair hugged him even tighter, Thomas' face in his neck. Alastair could feel his insteady breath.

“You shall be fine,” Alastair said with closed eyes. Tears escaped down his cheeks. He couldn't stop them anymore. “You shall be fine, _noore cheshmam_ ,” Alastair wailed. “I can't live without you. Without you nothing of me matters. You're my heart, my will to move, my _jan_. Please. Thomas, please.”

Thomas sobbed. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me, for every kiss and hug, for every gentle word. They mean the world,” he barely take a breath. “You mean the world. You… you are everything, Alastair Carstairs,” he sighed. “You are light.”

The night was cold.

The day too.

The sun.

The sunlight.

Everything was cold.

Alastair felt it in his soul.

When they found them, Alastair didn't notice it. He wished he could stop the time around them. This way he could die with his Thomas.

He shouldn't be so cold. It was wrong. Someone with so much love in himself never should be that cold. And here they were. Alastair closed his eyes.

•

Thomas wanted to tell him that he is loved him. He repeated it so many times already but Alastair couldn't hear him. No one did.

He followed him into the room of his mother. Alastair looked tired. Aged. There was this wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and mouth that seemed to never disappear. His jaw was tight. Hands always in gloves. Thomas wanted to hug him, to hold him until he was better. But he would never be able to do it again.

“Alastair,” he whimpered. “Alastair, please. Hear me. Hear me, see me!”

Nothing.

Thomas felt useless. The one he loved the most was in pain and Thomas couldn't help him.

Sona passed away soon after the baby was born. So soon she couldn't name her son.

When Thomas saw Alastair's expression he wanted to scream. And he did. There wasn't anyone who could hear him.

Alastair named the baby because Cordelia was in England and there wasn't anyone other from the family.

When Thomas heard the baby's name he felt like crying.

It was Majnun Thomas Carstairs.

•

Sometimes Thomas thought about his family. His friends. Alastair never returned in London so Thomas never saw them again.

But he missed them. Sometimes was ready to get back in London to see his sisters' weddings or James and Cordelia's son. Simply to watch Christopher doing his experiments or the Merry Thieves' room in Devil Tavern.

But then he looked at Alastair, _adelbaram_ , and these thoughts just disappeared. He couldn't leave him alone. Never. Never ever.

•

Thomas was looking at Alastair's red coat through the ballroom. Now he was in his thirties. With more scars, more wounds.

“Hey kid,” someone asked.

Thomas turned to the other ghost. It was a woman in her late forthies. Her black dress was covered in blood.

“Who are you?” she asked curiously. “I haven't see you here before.”

“I'm nobody,” Thomas said simply. “And don't worry about me. I'm not here for long.”

“Oh,” her expression turned soft. “You're sad soul, aren't you?”

Thomas didn't reply. He didn't has it in himself to do it.

“Why do you chose to stay though? I can see ghost life isn't for you.”

“I didn't choose to stay here just for itself,” he said, feeling sudden pain.

“Then why are you here?”

In the following silence Thomas looked at Alastair. He could see gray in his hair.

“Because the one I love begged me to stay.” he whispered. “I couldn't leave him alone.”

•

It was painful to watch Alastair with so much gray in his hair. To watch him grow old while Thomas was forever a boy.

Thomas whished so many times Alastair to find someone else. To be happy with him. But for years Alastair lived only with Majnun in Devon. And after Majnun brought his own house in Paris Alastair lived alone. But Alastair didn't know, Thomas thought with pain. He was so lonely. He thought that he was alone but that wasn't true. Thomas was always by his side.

Every year, on the day Thomas died, Alastair went to that bookstore in Paris where they meet at their travel year. Where everything began. Even when it was closed, he still came to the same place and spend a few hours there.

Every time Thomas felt so heartbroken that he thought it couldn't be worse. But he was wrong.

Every year it became harder and harder. He wanted to hug him, to touch him, to kiss him. He wanted to make him feel loved. But he could never ever do it again.

•

For so many years he talked to Alastair, telling him he loved him and that everything was gonna be alright.

But now, Thomas was looking at his fully gray hair, the wrinkles all over his face and thought… it wasn't fine. Nothing was fine anymore. It never has been.

Alastair distances himself from people who loved him, accepting the solitude. He wanted the solitude. Because he was grieving. He grieved all his life, all these years. Thomas wanted Alastair to stop, even to forget him if it was need, and to be with someone who loved him. Thomas always had the hope, deep in his heart, that Alastair was going to find happiness again.

But now, after so many years, Alastair closed his eyes. And didn't open them anymore.

•

Thomas was above suffering. In his being was left only sorrow.

It was like breathing. Unable to be escaped or stopped even for while.

For so many years he talked to Alastair, no matter no one could hear him, because he felt like he was losing his mind. His sanity was the only thing that death didn't stole from him.

Now he realized it was pointless. Absolutely, unbelievably pointless. Because in the end he was alone. He was far, far away. Alastair wasn't there to hug him anymore. No one was.

Every little thing he could remember about his short time with Alastair when he was alive, was hurting. It was pure pain to watch him grow old and die. But those precious memories were a killer. He was already dead but he felt like dying.

Thomas wanted the thieve of his heartso much.

He closed his eyes, hoping the light would show him his way home.

* * *

Dictionary

 _jan_ \- life

 _adelbaram_ \- the thief of my heart

 _noore cheshmam_ \- the light of my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please tell me what you think in the comments :)


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